


What Makes Derek Beautiful

by khaleesivero



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Declaration of Love, Derek is annoyed, Fluff, Fluffy, Gay, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, Sober!Derek, Stiles sings love songs, What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction, annoyed!Derek, drunk!Stiles, kiss, scott is worried, sort of, sterek, stiles is drunk, until he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4666203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesivero/pseuds/khaleesivero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy oneshot for my friend who said "Imagine Drunk!Stiles singing One Direction songs for Sober!Derek" - challenge accepted ;)<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Derek Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anglophilia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophilia/gifts).



> Fluffy oneshot for my lovely friend :))  
> Derek might be slightly OCC at the end because he is sweet but hell, I need to imagine THoech with a smile from time to time ;) Also, it's my first Sterek, so please be lenient :)  
> Enjoy!!

Stiles hadn't really planned on getting drunk, but here he was, drinking his - was it his sixth? - beer, feeling severely but comfortably dizzy, the warmth of the drink spreading through his veins. Lydia's parties were famous for their tendency of leading to excess, and even though Stiles himself had never actually contributed anything to it, standing next to the bar in the kitchen, alone, it seemed like this time he would.

"Dude!" That was Scott; Stiles would have known that voice even if he were unconscious. He turned around, staggering slightly, to see his friend, all flushed face and rumpled hair, approach him. Stiles suppressed an eye-roll; surely Scott had hooked up with Allison in some upstairs bedroom while he had been standing around the kitchen, looking for the one face that just wouldn't show, drinking more and more beer in the process of waiting.

Derek. Where was he? He'd said he'd be there. Well, he hadn't exactly, he'd huffed and scowled, as usual, but in Derek's language, that was a yes.

"Stiles?" He raised his head to look at Scott; he'd lost himself in his bitter thoughts. "Dude, are you drunk?" His best friend sounded upset, his eyes wide with worry. Stiles hiccupped. "Maybe a little?" he mumbled, grinning like an idiot.

Scott sighed; the exasperation was obvious on his tanned face. "Let's get you some water and then I'll take you home." He made to put an arm around Stiles and lead him towards the door, but Stiles wouldn't move. "No", he protested, feeling strangely determined, considering that his feet weren't even quite determined to keep him upright. "I can't go yet."

Scott looked at him, slightly surprised and obviously pondering something - probably whether he should just throw Stiles over his shoulder and carry him (werewolf powers and stuff) or whether that would make his best friend puke all over his cool new leather jacket. "Why not?" he finally asked.

Stiles gulped. "You know why", he muttered. "Derek..."

Scott's face took on a knowing expression. He was of course well-informed about his best friend's crush, as incomprehensible as it was to him. Which was, in turn, incomprehensible to Stiles because duh, Derek Hale. Total hunk with a touch of Byronic hero. Perfect heartthrob. And somehow, Stiles had thought a party would be a good, relaxed atmosphere to talk to Derek, really talk to him. Get to know the real him beyond his usual grumpy facade. But maybe that had been a silly idea. Probably. Most likely.

"Stiles", Scott said, squeezing his shoulder with the hand that was already grasping it. "You will see Derek soon enough to tell him -"

"To tell me what?"

Scott and Stiles turned around - Stiles a bit wobblier than Scott - and there he was. Derek Hale. Black t-shirt. Dark, rather tight-fitting pants. Light stubble on this chin and cheeks. And an annoyed look on his handsome face. Perfection. Well, Stiles wouldn't have needed the annoyance, but this was Derek, and you couldn't have it all, it seemed.

"Erm..." Stiles uttered cleverly, but for once in his life, Scott saved the situation smoothly. "Derek, hi. Stiles was just saying that Isaac was looking for you earlier and that he has asked us to tell you to call him."

If Derek was confused, he didn't let it show, he just nodded curtly. 

"Yeah, exactly", Stiles added stupidly, because that's what Derek Hale did to him these days - take away his sass. Goddammit.

The older man furrowed his brows. "Is he okay?" he asked Scott, as if Stiles wasn't even there. Rude werewolf. Oops! From the look Derek gave him, he'd just said that out loud. 

Scott smiled slightly. "He just had a little too much to drink. I'm about to take him home."

"No." Derek shook his head. "You stay here, Scott. I'll take him. I didn't plan on staying long, anyway." As if he'd been here for longer than five minutes. Wait, what? Derek Hale was going to take him home?! Stiles didn't know whether to be terrified or overjoyed. Probably more terrified since he was certain he'd behave inappropriately.

Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance. "Is that okay, Stiles?" his friend asked, but what he really meant was "Do you think you'll survive this in one piece?" 

Stiles nodded. "Sure. Let's go, sourwolf!"

Derek gave him a deadly stare. "Don't call me that." He grabbed his waist - Stiles suppressed a shudder at his touch - and turned to face the door. Without saying goodbye to Scott. Rude Wolf indeed. Stiles hobbled along as Derek made for the exit, waving back over his shoulder at Scott, who seemed frozen in place and in total disbelief about what'd just happened.

The fresh air hit Stiles like a slap in the face. He staggered, blinking rapidly, and thankfully, Derek stopped, looking at him, clearly annoyed. "Are you gonna puke?"

Shaking his head wasn't really an option, so Stiles had to reply verbally. "Nope, it's just... The night air..."

Derek made an annoyed sound, a mixture of laughter and a snort. "Yeah, right. Night. It's not even eleven, Stiles." That astonished him, but he didn't say so, because he didn't want to give Derek the satisfaction. He started walking, but the world was swaying softly, and he grabbed onto Derek's arm. The older guy didn't flinch, but actually had the indecency to grin broadly. "I like Drunk Stiles. He is so quiet."

Stiles ignored that, too. Idiot. "Where's your car?"

"No car. Walking." Derek picked up the pace again and Stiles staggered once more, this time with surprise. "Really? You plan on walking me back to my place? That could only be a matter of hours."

Derek sighed. "I was joking. The Roscoe's parked down the street."

Stiles released a surprised breath. "That's how you joke? My God, no wonder people call you sourwolf."

The older man looked over at him, his forehead in wrinkles. "Not people. You."

"Just what I said. And now get me to that car of yours, I'm cold!"

Another sigh escaped the werewolf as he lead Stiles a little further down the street and to his car. "I'm taking it back. Drunk Stiles is even bossier than Sober Stiles."

"Sober Stiles." The younger boy giggled. "I like the alliteration." Derek groaned, but Stiles thought that maybe he might have been suppressing a smile. Or not. Who knew with Derek. He probably only knew one facial expression, anyway.

Opening the passenger seat door, he helped the boy get into the car and even fastened his seatbelt for him. Stiles' breath caught in his throat at the way Derek bent over him to strap him in, his hot breath tracing across the younger boy's face, his muscular arms working directly in front of Stiles' eyes because apparently, Derek didn't know what cold was and didn't need a jacket. Not that Stiles would have complained, no way. But he was glad he was wearing his red hoodie.

"Thanks", he muttered when Derek had closed the door behind him and was getting into the car; his sass was currently on break, hyperventilating over the other guy's biceps.

"Wouldn't want you to die in my car", Derek mumbled, but there was something in his voice Stiles couldn't quite put his finger to. The older man started the car and pulled out of his parking spot. Immediately bored, Stiles reached out to turn on the sound system. 

Derek slapped his fingers away. "Absolutely not."

"Why not? It's not like you're such a talkative person, anyway!" Stiles complained. After a moment's silence, Derek answered "Fair enough", which surprised the younger boy, but he turned on the music, anyway.

Some chart station was on, the last music Stiles would have expected Derek to listen to, and a One Direction song was playing. He hummed along contently, but Derek groaned. "Really? You are going to make me listen to that?"

"Why not? It's really cute!" Stiles mumbled before joining the singer in declaring his love to some fictional girl. "If only you saw what I can see, you'd understand why I want you so desperately, right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe you don't know, you don't know you're beautiful, that's what makes you beautiful!" He glanced over at Derek, who seemed unmoved, racing down the street to get this over with, which kind of hurt Stiles. 

"Have you ever felt about someone like that?" he blurted out before he could think about it twice. Oh well, he was drunk; he could always pretend he didn't remember in the morning.

"Like what?" Derek asked, and for a change, there was no annoyance in his voice. It sounded neutral for the first time tonight. Stiles took that as an encouragement.

"Like they lit up your world? Or that beauty lies within not knowing about it?" Wow, that was so deep. Drunk Stiles was a real philosopher.

Derek was quiet for a few seconds. "I guess, yeah", he said then, shrugging. "If you are in love with someone, everything they do has a certain... Magic to it." Wow, and Sober Derek was a real poet. Or he was simply quoting that cheesy Police song. Anyway, it was a definite turn-on.

Derek looked over at Stiles while he was waiting at a red traffic light. "Even if they are a drunk mess."

WHAT?! 

Stiles couldn't help staring back. Had he just meant him??? He must have, right? Because Stiles was definitely drunk! Or had he imagined it? Or had it only been a random example? 

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Derek sent the car back into motion. They would reach Stiles' house within seconds,, and Stiles was still absolutely gobsmacked. He had to do something, say something, take some action or another.

Derek stopped the car in front of the Stilinskis' house and turned off the engine. It was silent for a few seconds. Stiles' heart was racing with anticipation. He needed to confront Derek now or the moment would be gone.

The older man cleared his throat. "If you give me your key, I can unlock the front door for you."

"Derek." Stiles gulped. "Did you just mean it when you said..."

"No. You're drunk, you probably imagines it." He wasn't looking at him, but Stiles smiled. Huh. That was his tactic, wasn't it? Well, it wouldn't help him now.

Derek motioned to open the door, but Stiles said "Derek" very quietly, and that made him halt. "Yeah?" he said, turning back to face Stiles. Now or never.

The younger boy reached out to put his left hand to Derek's cheek and began to sing softly: "Baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, but when you smile -" he didn't get any further, because the fire in Derek's eyes seemed to blaze incredibly bright and then they were kissing, a sweet, shy, slow kiss. Stiles was surprised, even though that kind of had been his intention (who would have thought Derek wouldn't just punch him?!) but put his second hand to his face as well, cupping Derek's cheeks, feeling his rough stubble, tasting his sweet lips, memorising his smell.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but when they broke it, Derek was smiling, seemingly smug. "Couldn't let you go on about the way I flip my hair. You're a pretty good singer, though."

Stiles blushed. "You're a pretty good kisser, though."

Inexplicably, unanticipated, Derek blushed, too. "Let's get you into that house", he said, changing the topic, and got out of the car. He helped Stiles walk up the path to the front door, his hand around the younger boy's waist somehow steadier than before. Stiles was still buzzing from the booze and the kiss, and he was incredibly confused. Had the kiss meant something? He was sure it had, but it could also just have been a head-of-the-moment incidence. Those happened, right? But even if it had meant something... Would Derek want to date him? Probably not, since the werewolf was perfection in person and he was just Stiles - clumsy, silly, weird Stiles. They had to talk about it. But how did you initiate such a talk? When it came to expressing feelings, the both of them weren't exactly experts. Even though Stiles still thought himself to be better at it than the sourwolf.

Taking the key out of his hand, Derek unlocked the front door and stepped back. Suddenly, he was looking very insecure.

"You think you can manage now?"

Stiles was unsure about what to say, but he knew he couldn't let Derek go just yet. "I guess so, but Derek... Are you just gonna pretend that kiss never happened?"

The older man looked at him, his face unreadable. "Would you like that?"

Stiles' eyes went wide. "What? No!" He paused. "Would you?"

Derek stared at him for a few more seconds, then abruptly shook his head. "Hell, no!" He crossed the space between them with two hurried strides and pressed his lips to Stiles' once more in a quick motion. "I wouldn't. I want to kiss you every day", he admitted, his voice a mere whisper.

Stiles grinned happily; his gut felt like it was hosting a samba party. "You know, there is a One Direction song called Kiss You..."

Derek grinned back. "Are you gonna sing that to me tomorrow?"

The younger boy cocked his head to the side. "Maybe?"

The older man shook his head, smiling. "Go to bed, Stiles."

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand. "If you promise that I can see you tomorrow?" He really didn't want to let that new, happy Derek out of his sight.

The werewolf nodded. "I promise. I'll pick you up tomorrow and we can have coffee and talk."

"Sounds great." Stiles quickly pecked Derek's lips before he smiled at him one last time and went inside, waving goodnight. Derek just stood there, looking back at him, a tiny smile on his face, before he also turned and walked back to his car.

Needless to say Stiles spent the night not sleeping off his hangover but listening to One Direction, thinking about the way Derek's lips had felt on his and looking forward to feeling them again the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) Feedback is always appreciated so in case you want to tell me anything, please do :)  
> Loads of love xx


End file.
